


Unwanted

by ladyoneill



Series: Shadows Of The Moon: Full Moon Ficlets [15]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mating, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His wrist throbs, his ass aches, and there's a werewolf wrapped around him coming down off of sex pollen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwanted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fullmoon_ficlet prompt "tears", yet another take on Peter got sex pollened and forced a mating on Stiles, this one much more graphic.

He doesn't even realize he's silently crying until Peter's fingers glide gently across his hot cheek and come away wet. 

Slowly, carefully he turns his eyes to the werewolf pinning him to the bed with one arm and one leg and an overly heated, naked body. Relief floods him at the sanity in Peter's eyes. Whatever he was dosed with has worn off.

Peter frowns, but not in anger, almost in...sympathy? "How badly did I hurt you?" His voice is soft, concerned, conveying none of the sarcasm, wit, sass that Stiles is used to, and he takes a minute to assess because the fear that gripped him over the past few hours is gone now.

The fear, not the pain, was what made him cry, because he didn't know what else Peter was going to do, could do, and he couldn't get away. The last time he tried, hitting the older man, cursing him, he found himself too easily turned on his stomach and a hard dick in his ass again. That was when...

The bite on his wrist throbs dully.

They both turn their attention to it and Peter sighs. "Shit."

"Why did you bite me? You can't turn me." Why is his voice so hoarse? Oh, right, the screaming. From the pain and the anger, both, but mostly the pain, because, shit, he was fucked twice and he's pretty sure he's bleeding a bit.

Peter pulls away from him, sits on the edge of the bed with his back to him and his head down and shit this is bad. "It's not that kind of bite," he finally says.

"No cryptic shit," Stiles barks angrily. "I can accept you were sex pollened and I was the only one around so you fucked me and, thanks for keeping enough of your senses to use lube, by the way, though it still hurt like hell and you wouldn't let me go even when you came twice, but why did you bite me?"

Turning quickly, Peter grabs the punctured wrist and Stiles shuts up as heat and anger and frustration and none of it his floods his senses, leaving him gasping. Before he can pull away, he's dragged against the werewolf and Peter's mouth is on the wounds, suckling and sending wild pleasure through him.

Collapsing limply against his side, Stiles whimpers and his cock is hard, and he remembers.

Peter was fucking him from behind, slapping his pelvis against Stiles' aching ass, hard, fast, way too fast, and it hurt so much, and then he dragged his wrist backwards and bit...

And Stiles, who wasn't even hard anymore because Peter's cock was big and the prep wasn't enough and he didn't really want him, came so hard he whited out.

"It's a mating bite," Peter states bitterly. "It was...instinct."

Stiles pales. He's read about mating. He knows... Jerking his hand away, he scrambles off the bed, ignoring the pain that lances up his spine and the way every limb trembles. "Fuck no."

Peter's face is tight, closed down, but his eyes flash a brilliant blue and lock on his, and Stiles takes a step back towards the bed, his hand reaching out and...

He's not in control of himself.

"Stop, please," he begs in a whisper, shaking from head to foot, except his dick is still hard and he wants...

"You're mine."

No.

Before he can stop himself, Stiles is on the bed, on his back, with Peter over him, and the tears start up again, even as he wraps himself around the werewolf who slides too easily into his still stretched and slick body.

No.

No.

Fucking hell NO! he screams in his head even as his mouth opens to Peter's and his arms welcome him and his hips rise and he's helplessly caught in a passion he doesn't understand and doesn't want and can't ever deny.

Mates.

No.

End


End file.
